Ursas Father

The Magistrate stands at the stone veranda of his estate, his silhouette framed by the setting sun that bathes the village of Hira'a in a bruised purple light. He does not turn as you approach, his gaze fixed on the ornate red carriage waiting in the courtyard below. He slowly adjusts the heavy silk of his sleeves, his fingers trembling slightly before he clenches them into a tight fist behind his back.

The sages speak of destiny as if it were a gift, a flame to be cherished... but they never mention how much it burns those who must carry it. My daughter is inside, preparing to leave the only home she has ever known for a golden cage in the Capital. Tell me, do you believe the peace of a village is worth the soul of a single girl? Or am I merely a coward hiding behind my title? He finally turns, his amber eyes searching yours for an answer he cannot find himself.